To Forgive Divine
by I bring the mosh brah
Summary: BJ gets dangerously drunk, and he ends up nearly killing Hawkeye, right when truckloads of wounded arrive. Will Hawkeye be able to forgive BJ, or will his wounds need time to heal? Chapter 5 is up!
1. The Shock

To Forgive Divine  
  
Author's Note: Hi pplz! In this story, BJ gets dangerously drunk, and he ends up nearly killing Hawkeye, right when truckloads of wounded arrive. Will Hawkeye be able to forgive BJ, or will his wounds need time to heal? Rated for violence.  
  
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Chapter One: A Shock  
  
A deep chocolate-brown pool reflected his depressing and distressing emotions. Swirling russet liquid glimmered where the artificial lights beamed. Expressions of grief and anguish clouded the smooth creamy bronze surface. Sweltering hot steam floated in wisps from the images of miserable sensations. He softly breathed on the whirling brown fluid. His breath breezed his tormented face into tiny ripples and crinkles, spinning the sorrow into obscurity.  
  
"More coffee, Hawkeye?"  
  
Hawkeye looked up sharply from his full cup of coffee. Radar was smiling politely at him, his fingertips gripping a large jug filled with dark almost-black liquid. Hawkeye suddenly remembered he was in the Mess Tent after 16 hours of endless meatball surgery. He was losing the battle with his eyelids quickly.  
  
Hawkeye shook his head. "No thanks, Radar. Do you know when the mail is sent out?"  
  
Radar nodded. "Tomorrow at 18:00. Why? Any mail you need to send?"  
  
"Yup, to my Dad. I haven't written in a while. Anyways, I'm really tired. I think I'll head back to the Swamp." Hawkeye yawned.  
  
He slowly rose from his spot on the wooden bench. He sluggishly dragged his tired feet to the 'used' pile of dishes and dumped his coffee cup carelessly into the heap of mugs. On his way to the flimsy card-board-like doors he stumbled but caught himself in time to sway his hand drowsily to Radar.  
  
Radar waved back. "Goodnight, Hawkeye!"  
  
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Hawkeye managed to wander back to the Swamp without tripping or falling too many times. The Swamp was empty when he entered, BJ and Charles obviously still at Post-Op, checking on patients. He blinked his ocean blue and icy silver eyes sleepily.  
  
'Better get started on that letter. Where'd I put my pencil?"  
  
He asked himself quietly. He rummaged through thick wads of paper and books, finally finding his pencil and holding it up in triumph. "Aha!"  
  
He lazily tumbled onto his cot. After rearranging himself to the most possible comfortable position, he grabbed a sheet of paper from on top of Charles' footlocker. Scribbling the pencil scratchily onto the parchment, he began to write his letter.  
  
'Dear Dad,'  
  
That was as far as he got before he fell back onto his bed, fast asleep.  
  
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*I couldn't remember falling asleep. All I remembered was writing my letter, and the rest was a blur.*  
  
Hawkeye slowly opened his silver-blue eyes. White glowing moonbeams bounced on his face, it was clearly nighttime. Dim darkness enveloped the Swamp. He pushed himself into a sitting position, seeing his forgotten letter lying on the ground. He swooped down to scoop it up, when the alarm clock caught his eye. '3:47 AM?' he thought in surprise. 'Has it been THAT long since I fell asleep?'  
  
Soft snoring filled his ears. He groaned. 'Charles must be back.'  
  
He turned his gaze on Charles' cot, to find Charles sprawled on it. Yep, he's back.  
  
His groggy eyes focused on BJ's empty bed. 'Where's BJ? Post-Op paperwork shouldn't take this long.'  
  
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*Meanwhile, at Rosie's.....*  
  
"Ugghh...another beer Rosie!" BJ shouted, his voice slurring and thick with alcohol.  
  
Rosie eyed him skeptically. "I think you've had enough. All drink but no money! Where's the cash?"  
  
BJ groaned. "One more beer and I'm outta here. And you get your money."  
  
Rosie shook her head. "No way Joe. I want my money now! And I want you out of here! So cough it up!"  
  
"NO! I WANT ANOTHER BEER! AND YOU AIN'T GETTIN' NO MONEY UNTIL I GET ONE!"  
  
BJ lunged forward and grabbed Rosie by her collar. He pushed her into the corner, pinning her against the wall. He grasped her throat and picked her up with one hand. Her dark chocolate eyes widened and her face turned a pale shade of blue. She gasped for air as tears slid down her cheeks. The whole room went silent, watching fearfully.  
  
"Gimme a beer! Now!" He growled dangerously. His hazel eyes narrowed and he grinded his teeth.  
  
Rosie slowly nodded her head with difficulty. BJ grinned and let go of her neck. She dropped to the ground on her hands and knees, wheezing and struggling to breathe. BJ kicked her in the stomach, hard.  
  
"Get up! Come on! I haven't got all night!"  
  
A shocked shriek rang out through the room.  
  
"BJ!"  
  
BJ turned around quickly. Margaret was standing up from her seat, mouth wide open and an expression of utter traumatize plastered on her pale face.  
  
"How DARE you! How dare you do that to Rosie when all she's doing is looking out for your health! How dare you hurt her! How dare you drink so much when you know wounded are predicted to come in the morning! How DARE you, BJ Hunnicutt!" she screeched shrilly. Her emerald-azure eyes were widened in shock and her smooth, milky-white skin reddened in fury.  
  
BJ glanced uncertainly from the gasping Rosie to the silent, frightened crowd. He frustratingly shook his head. "I don't need this. I'm heading back to the Swamp. There's beer there." He gave the crowd one last glare before rushing out the door and slamming it behind him.  
  
"BJ!" Margaret shouted, obviously not finished with him. Father Mulcahy put a strong hand on her arm so she would sit down calmly. Tears shone in her eyes.  
  
"Margaret, maybe BJ will calm down once he gets back to the Swamp. A good night's rest, and he'll be as good as new." Father Mulcahy spoke in a hushed tone.  
  
Margaret's voice shook with sobs. "But...but Hawkeye's at the Swamp."  
  
*****************************************  
  
Hawkeye had begun to write more in his letter, while stopping to rub his tired eyes every three minutes.  
  
'Four measly hours of sleep.....once I'm done this letter I'm hitting the sack. ' he thought groggily.  
  
Suddenly, a violent smash echoed into the Swamp. Hawkeye's head shot up from his letter to find the feeble door had been torn off it's hinges. In the doorway stood a dark figure.  
  
"BJ?"  
  
And there he was, soaked with rain, light brown hair chaotic, reeking of alcohol, a furious glint in his narrowed hazel eyes.  
  
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Author's Note: What do you think of this chapter? If you like it, review. If you don't, review. More to come very soon. Seeya!  
  
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	2. BJ's Rage, Margaret's Fright, Hawkeye's ...

To Forgive Divine  
  
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Author's Note: This chapter has much more violence than the first. Yes, Margaret does have a thing for Hawkeye. In the romance department, this is going to be a H/M story. Thanx to everyone who reviewed this story so far! Be sure to check out my other stories in my profile! Enjoy! And please review!  
  
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Chapter Two:  
  
A crash of angry lightning flashed from behind the shadowy figure of BJ.  
  
"You did it! You son-of-a-bitch!" BJ's raspy voice cracked but fury still filled it.  
  
Hawkeye was too stunned to respond. He had never seen BJ drink this much, he had come close many times, but never enough to think Hawkeye was his enemy.  
  
Still Hawkeye managed to whisper, "What are you talking about?"  
  
BJ roared with rage, eyes full of vehemence, lunging towards Hawkeye. Hawkeye, still too stunned to move, received a very hard hit in the nose, and when he felt warm liquid trickling down his face, he realized BJ's fists were being thrown at him. He tried to spin out of the way, but he rolled off his cot and hit his head harshly on his footlocker. He let out a deep yell of searing hot pain, when......  
  
"Pierce?"  
  
Charles had awoken to the loud scream. He was sitting up in his cot, drowsy- eyed, but when he saw BJ kicking Hawkeye repeatedly in the face and the stomach mercilessly, he was wide-eyed and shaking.  
  
BJ, hearing the faint voice, spun around to face Charles. Charles was trembling even more once he realized that BJ had noticed him. He heard Hawkeye softly groan in agony, but all he could see was the killer glare BJ was giving him. Suddenly, BJ darted towards to his footlocker, kicking it over. It had been unlocked, and several contents spilled onto the floor.  
  
BJ made a grab for a small item in the dark corner. Abruptly, a sharp swish echoed into Charles' frightened ears. A soft moonbeam reflected off of something silver. A stunned silence was deafening in the Swamp when Charles and Hawkeye comprehended what it was. A long, smooth, silver cold slab of steel. BJ's pocket knife.  
  
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Hawkeye's head was pounding. He felt confused and at the same time, terrified out of his mind.  
  
'Why is BJ doing this? What did I do? Why has he gotten so drunk?' he thought silently to himself.  
  
He felt blood gush down his face, although his vision was blurred and fuzzy and the thoughts in his head swam indistinctively. He was barely aware of what was happening around him, he was so hazy.  
  
But when a faded swish sound ricocheted in the Swamp, and a glimmer of sharp, cold silver caught his bleary eye, he started to panic. In BJ's pale fingertips, he clutched his pocket knife. ******************************************  
  
BJ was slowly advancing on Charles, knife pointed towards him. Charles was quivering so hard he looked like he was having a seizure. BJ's hazel eyes gleamed with wickedness and malice. He suddenly stopped in his tracks, just staring at the wall. Charles breathed a sigh of relief, but he did it too soon. BJ's face turned expressionless and he lifted his hand with the knife in it above his head. Time froze. And as BJ pulled back his arm, it was like slow motion. Throwing his arm forward, BJ swiftly let go of the knife.  
  
Soaring through the air, the knife gained speed towards Charles Winchester.  
  
...........  
  
*A/N: Wouldn't it be funny if I just ended it there? Well, I'm not that evil! On with the story!*  
  
...........  
  
A shrill, terrified scream echoed throughout the entire 4077th camp.  
  
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"Margaret! Margaret, come back!" Father Mulcahy hollered. She had been horribly frightened for Hawkeye when BJ had stormed out of Rosie's Bar. Father Mulcahy had told her to calm down, and he would let her go. She had calmed down only a little when Father Mulcahy had released her slender arm from his strong grasp. Then she raced off , out of Rosie's and into the darkness.  
  
Radar looked on in worry. He sensed Margaret's troubled thoughts and it made him uncomfortable.  
  
"Would you like me to go look for the Major?" Radar asked Colonel Potter timidly, but helpfully.  
  
Colonel Potter sighed and put down his vodka. "Yes, Radar, please. Go tell the Major to come back and let BJ's drunken madness blow over." Radar nodded.  
  
He set his Grape Nehi gently on the table, standing up quickly and hurrying to the flimsy door. After stepping out into the night, he was frozen with fear as a shrill, terrified scream echoed throughout the entire 4077th camp.  
  
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Margaret tore through the compound speedily. Her slim legs carried her rapidly around tents and the latrine. When she saw the Swamp coming into view, she dashed off towards it at breakneck speed. Tears were streaming down her face, her emerald-blue eyes bloodshot and swollen.  
  
She leapt to the Swamp, her shaking hand grabbing the metal handle. She swung the door open.  
  
Her shrill, terrified scream echoed throughout the entire 4077th camp.  
  
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A/N: THE REASON BJ GOT DRUNK IS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER, SO STAY TUNED. Did you like this chapter? Please, please review!  
  
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	3. The Dreaded Letter

To Forgive Divine  
  
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Author's Note: Happy Easter! Spring is just around the corner and so is brand-new chapters of my stories, full of excitement and Hawkeye/Margaret romance! Thank-you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far! I hope you guys [and gurls!] like this chapter, and I hope you leave a review, either positive or negative! But please, if your review is negative, tell me what you didn't like about this story and what I can do to improve it. Any hurtful or rude remarks WILL be ignored and those vulgar reviewers will be hated. Not because you don't like my story, but because you have nothing better to do but to write reviews that you know will hurt me.  
  
Anyway, sorry this took so long to update, my computer has been crashing and freezing and all that jazz. But it's finally fixed, so I can write more chapters quicker! TO EVERYONE WHO LIKES MY WRITING: AN AMAZING STORY IN THE PROCESS! It's about how Hawkeye became claustrophobic... but you won't believe what you read. Filled with angst, torment, sorrow, mystery and horrendous childhood nightmares, this story will capture your heart, break it to pieces, and then mend it again. Empty graves, bloodstained knives... who is this little girl who sings Hawkeye's mother's lullaby? Much more is concealed beneath this fanfiction, but describing more would ruin the shock and terror that lies inside.  
  
Enjoy this chapter and please review!  
  
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Chapter Three: The Dreaded Letter  
  
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~*~*~*~FLASHBACK~*~*~*~  
  
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* His drained hazel eyes stared endlessly into space while short locks of his light bronze hair obscured his face. In his shaking hands he clutched a thin sheet of paper, a pallid envelop lay torn beside his tall glass of beer on the scrubbed wooden counter.  
  
B.J Hunnicutt squeezed his eyes shut tightly in disbelief and grief. His wife... his beloved Peg...  
  
******  
  
~ Dear B.J,  
  
Hi honey, how are you? Everything here is good, except for some bad news I have for you. Now, please don't get upset dear, it will only make the situation worse, and it won't change anything. Please, sweetie, please just listen to me.  
  
It all started on Saturday night. I had just put little Erin to bed when the telephone rang. Well I went to answer it, and you'll never guess who it was! You could never guess, because at that time, neither could I. The caller was a man with a deep, alluring voice and he asked me if I was Peg Hunnicutt. I said yes. He said his name was Benjamin, and he had heard all about me from my husband, B.J Hunnicutt. I was flattered that you talk about me so much, B.J! Well, he said he was on a short weekend trip in Tokyo, and he really wanted to meet me and talk to me. I couldn't resist meeting one of your friends from the 4077th! I couldn't wait to hear all of the stories about you and the war from him! So I said yes. I said I'd go to Tokyo and meet him. That decision changed my life.  
  
After a long conversation about where Benjamin, can I call him Ben? Where Ben would be waiting for me, we hung up. Then I called the babysitter, that nice woman Marilyn that lived three houses down, and I asked her if she could watch Erin for the weekend. She agreed.  
  
So I travelled to Tokyo, to discover that Ben was staying in The Kushvakk Hotel. I went to the hotel, being escorted by two strong men in black tuxedoes that said they were sent by Benjamin P. to ensure my safe departure from the plane to the hotel. The front desk clerk was a short woman with curly brown hair and big green eyes. She told me that Ben would be in room 113. So I walked down the hall to his room. Before I could knock, he opened the door.  
  
His eyes were the colour of the ocean at dusk, bright blue sparkling with passion I had never seen before. His hair was a dark midnight black, thick locks perfectly combed through, the shiny smoothness made me want to touch it. His nose was perfectly shaped, his lips deep crimson and tempting. His skin was darkly tanned, soft and clear. His features were so handsome...  
  
After he greeted me with a kiss on my hand he led me into the hotel room, where I was surprised to see dim lights, hazy candles, bottles of fancy champagne and a cozy sofa that looked absolutely fabulous! The whole thing was so romantic and NOT what I expected!  
  
We started a simple conversation about ourselves, properly introducing ourselves to each other. Well it was about half an hour before he told me that I looked beautiful. I was wearing nothing special, really. My hair was up in an elegant style, and I was wearing that sparkly black dress, you know, the one that you say makes me look sexy. Nothing special. He was wearing a really tight black T-shirt and loose, black sweatpants. Then I told him he looked handsome, and before I could stop him, he kissed me!  
  
But his kiss was so soft, tender, passionate, and made me feel like I was sixteen again. It made fireworks explode in my head, and before I knew it, I was kissing back!  
  
After our kiss things got more serious. Yes, B.J, SERIOUS! I don't want to describe it in details, but I think these three simple words will help you understand how serious it got.  
  
I AM PREGNANT!  
  
I've fallen in love. But not with you.  
  
B.J Hunnicutt, I want a divorce.  
  
Your Pregnant Ex-Wife,  
  
Peg Pierce ~  
  
*****  
  
B.J roared furiously before taking an enormous gulp of his beer, draining the glass, and ordered another beer with a rage-filled voice. After six tall glasses of beer, B.J was muttering over and over,  
  
"Hawkeye...I'll kill him! I will! Benjamin Pierce... he's going to die!"  
  
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Author's Note: Well? Did you like it? More explanations that will make TOTAL sense in the next chapter which is coming up incredibly soon! Review!  
  
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	4. The Impostor

To Forgive Divine  
  
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Author's Note: Hi again! Sorry the last chapter was kind of short, but I'm writing more chapters quicker now. THANK-YOU SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed and to future reviewers. You are appreciated.  
  
Well, the last chapter, if you didn't understand what the heck was going on, was the reason why B.J got so insanely drunk in the first place! I know what you guys [and gurls] are thinking! HAWKEYE?! STEAL PEG FROM B.J?! IMPOSSIBLE! Well, rest assured because it WAS NOT Hawkeye! This chapter is ANOTHER FLASHBACK, so pay CLOSE ATTENTION!  
  
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Chapter Four: The Impostor  
  
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~*~*~*FLASHBACK*~*~*~  
  
"How is he, Kellye?"  
  
Hawkeye towered over his sleeping patient as he scribbled on his clipboard hurriedly.  
  
"He's doing much better," Nurse Kellye replied cheerfully, "His pulse is steady and blood pressure is normal."  
  
Hawkeye grinned his famous grin. "Wonderful. When he wakes up gives him lots of fluids and get him another IV." Hawkeye hung the clipboard gently on the end of the bed.  
  
Kellye nodded. "Yes Doctor."  
  
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His eyes were as blue as the ocean, glimmering with vividness, his hair was thick, soft black. His features were peaceful. He resembled someone...  
  
Hawkeye Pierce.  
  
Yet he was not Hawkeye. His name was Rusty Riggins, and he was twenty-six years old.  
  
Rusty was from New Jersey. He had three beautiful children and a loving wife. He had a large, gorgeous house with a garden and a white picket fence. He had a well-paying job as a surgeon, enjoying his work all the time. His life was full of happiness and serenity.  
  
Until he was called to the Korean War.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~DEEPER FLASHBACK~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
*******  
  
"Rusty! Get out of the way!"  
  
Boom!  
  
Rusty screamed. His scream was bloodcurdling and worse than the cries of the wounded around him. He had been hit by a sniper.  
  
John Jacob was no where to be seen. Rusty heard him, he knew he did. But the heavy downpour of rain and the splashing mud and the rushing bullets blurred his vision.  
  
He glanced down at his leg. A tattered, gaping bullet hole tore through his knee and blood gushed rapidly out of the wound. Tears of pain trickled down his pale cheeks.  
  
"Rusty! Rusty! Where are you?!"  
  
Rusty froze in shock. John! It was him! He's alive!  
  
"John! I'm over here! Over here!"  
  
Suddenly, John's bright red hair broke through the long, thick grass. His head then broke through, revealing something that horrified Rusty.  
  
Half of John's face had been somehow blown away, leaving only one bloodshot eye and mouth. His skin on the other side of his face was ripped off, his empty eye socket staring at Rusty blankly.  
  
"Rusty? That you?" he wheezed wearily. He did not seem to notice half his face being slashed off. He lifted his hand, placing it gently on Rusty's shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, yeah it's me. Look, we got to get you to the medic. Can you walk?" Rusty asked urgently. John continued to stare, void of emotion. "No... nothing's wrong with me! Look at you're leg! It's going to fall off! Let's get YOU to the medic!" he exclaimed with panic.  
  
Rusty shook his head. "No! You need medical attention. Come on, take my hand."  
  
As John's scraped hand slid into his own, Rusty felt a sensation of comfort. 'I'm not alone...'  
  
That was Rusty's last thought as another bullet pierced his stomach. His last sight was of John lying on the ground, a bullet hole through his head, before the world was swallowed into darkness.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*NORMAL FLASHBACK~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Hey Kiddo, how are you doing?"  
  
Rusty looked up to see B.J beaming down at him. Rusty could not muster a polite smile back.  
  
"Not so good." Rusty sighed sorrowfully. He fought incredibly hard to blink back the tears that burned his eyes.  
  
B.J's smile faded. "Sorry to hear that," he said with sympathy, "Do you want to talk to me about it?"  
  
Rusty nodded meekly. "Please. I need someone to talk to. My doctor, I hear he's a great guy and he would talk with me, but he's never around when I'm awake."  
  
B.J's grin returned quickly. "Hawkeye. He's on another date. With Nurse Able." He winked slyly. Then, he paused slightly. "Now that I think about it," he said slowly, "You look A LOT like Hawkeye. Same hair... same eyes..."  
  
"I've heard that loads of times from everybody here," Rusty interjected. "But I've never seen him before." he sighed.  
  
"You'll see him soon," B.J reassured him. "He's got Post-Op duty in an hour."  
  
"I need to talk now!" Rusty insisted. "Please, Doctor?"  
  
"First of all, call me B.J," B.J said kindly, seating himself on the empty cot beside Rusty's. He leaned close to Rusty and spoke quietly.  
  
"Secondly, you can always talk to me. I'll always listen." Rusty finally smiled. "Thank-you, B.J. That means a lot to me."  
  
B.J's smile grew. "Anytime."  
  
Rusty took a deep breath and clasped his shaking hands in one another. "My best friend, John Jacob, was killed on Tuesday." he squeezed his eyes shut and didn't care that tears slid down his face. B.J's expression softened and he placed his hand tenderly on top of Rusty's quivering one. He spoke in a whisper.  
  
"I'm so sorry."  
  
Rusty shook his head hard. He didn't seem to acknowledge B.J's presence. "He was so good to me. I got a Dear John letter two weeks after I went into war." his voice shattered. "He got me through it. Convinced me there was another woman who would love me, and stay faithful to me. He was there for me when... when the Koreans bombed us and killed half our group. He was... always there."  
  
"Then we had to go into combat a little ways into the forest. He was brave, and I was so scared. Suddenly, a sniper started to fire at us." Rusty broke into a cold sweat, beads of the lucid liquid gliding down his temples. "A bullet ripped through my knee- and an explosion... explosion-" he stuttered with fear. "explosion b-blasted... off half of... John's face," more tears flowed down Rusty's cheeks, "He only had one eye and... and a mouth.... but he-he was more concerned about me than- than he was about himself... he wanted to... to get me to the medic... but we never got there in time..."  
  
Rusty broke off, sobbing loudly and grasping B.J's hand tightly. B.J glanced around worriedly, not sure of what to do. Finally, he gently gripped Rusty's shoulder and whispered comforting words. "Sssh, it's alright Rusty... John's in a better place now...I know you'll miss him, he'll miss you, but, he wants you to live you're life...without him."  
  
Rusty's breath got tangled in his throat as he faced B.J with sad blue eyes. "Do you have a wife?" he asked.  
  
B.J was startled he wasn't crying anymore but nodded. "Yep. Her name's Peg. She's a beautiful gal. She makes the best apple pie ever."  
  
"Do you have a picture of her?" Rusty asked. He seemed keen on this woman named Peg.  
  
B.J smiled softly. "Yeah, hold on, it's in my pocket..." he reached into his square-shaped white pocket and pulled out a small, glossy photograph. Inside the photo was the most beautiful woman Rusty had ever laid eyes on. The picture was black and white, but he could still fantasize her without colour. Light hair with bright eyes to match. Perfect nose, shapely lips, high cheekbones, a slender figure. Rusty fought hard not to drool.  
  
"Where-where does she- I mean- you live?" Rusty asked inquisitively. He knew he sounded nosy, but this woman... this beauty...  
  
"Mill Valley, California." B.J said, oblivious to the young man's strange curiosity. He slipped the photo back into his pocket, much to Rusty's dismay.  
  
B.J saw Rusty staring at his pocket and quickly, worriedly, dismissed it. "Well, I have to get back to my patients. It was nice talking to you, Rusty. And... I'm really sorry about your friend."  
  
Rusty nodded, deep in thought. "Thanks, B.J."  
  
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"Breathe, damn it, breathe!" Hawkeye's frantic shout echoed throughout Post- Op. Rusty bolted upward in his bed, startled by the sudden scream. What he saw in front of him, both shocked and frightened him.  
  
Garry Tucker, the patient who's bed lay straight ahead of him, was wheezing and coughing from the bullet wound that pierced his lungs. He was thrashing around wildly in the feeble army cot while Hawkeye, Nurse Bigalow and Colonel Potter tried to help him, alarmed. Hawkeye had thrown down his clipboard, papers scattering the room. Rusty noticed a bundle of papers with the title that read, "Weekend Trip to Tokyo" stamped in big bold letters. It was a form. For Tokyo.  
  
Everyone's attention was focused on Garry, so Rusty scooped up the papers and slipped them under his sheet.  
  
"We've lost him, Doctor." Nurse Bigalow sadly reported. Hawkeye's eyes widened as he continued to try and revive Garry. "No! No! That's not true! It can't be! No!" Hawkeye finally fell to his knees, burying his head in his arms on the edge of the cot. "He was so young... just a baby... shouldn't have died..."  
  
Potter moved close to Hawkeye, bending down beside him. "It's okay son, it wasn't your fault. He couldn't be helped..."  
  
A loud, unexpected horn honked outside. Potter quickly straightened up.  
  
"It's Hawkeye's jeep for the trip to Tokyo." Nurse Bigalow said.  
  
"I'm not going!" Hawkeye sobbed from the ground. Potter looked uncomfortably to Nurse Bigalow.  
  
"Could I go to the Latrine?" Rusty suddenly inquired. Potter glanced over in his direction. Rusty squirmed awkwardly for effect.  
  
Potter sighed wearily. "Sure, son. Bigalow, please take Riggins to the Latrine and tell Hawkeye's jeep he won't be going."  
  
Bigalow nodded. "Yes, sir." She walked over to Rusty and helped him up kindly, taking his arm and leading him gently out of bed. Rusty slid the papers up his sleeve.  
  
Bigalow walked with Rusty down the line of cots, Potter guiding the miserable Hawkeye into his office for a talk. The patients were all sleeping. Rusty took a chance.  
  
He swung his arm swiftly out of Bigalow's tender grasp, causing her to scream. He pushed her roughly to the ground, her head crashing against an empty cot. Blood trickled down her temple but her screaming stopped. Her eyes fluttered closed.  
  
Rusty took the papers out of his sleeve and quickly ran out of Post-Op, spotting the jeep parked out by the Swamp. He saw Hawkeye's duffle bag lying beside the Swamp's flimsy door. Rusty rushed over to the jeep.  
  
"Finally!" the driver called. "You took forever! Didn't you hear the honking?! We've got a plane to catch!"  
  
Rusty tossed the papers at the driver and hoisted up the bag as the driver read the form.  
  
"A weekend in Tokyo, huh? You're one lucky guy!" the driver exclaimed enviously.  
  
Rusty muttered a quick thank-you before glancing around, praying that nobody would catch him. He heaved the duffle bag into the back of the jeep. "By the way, what's you're name, kid?" The driver asked curiously.  
  
Rusty spoke softy. "It's Benjamin. Benjamin Pierce."  
  
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Author's Note: Well? Does it make more sense now? I hope so. The whole next chapter won't be a flashback, but there might be one in there. I don't know yet. Anyways, please review!  
  
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	5. The Encounter Of Life And Death And Love

To Forgive Divine  
  
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Author's Note: I felt really bad because in the last chapter I talked mostly only about Rusty... and he's not a real M*A*S*H character. Please forgive me! I feel SO bad! This chapter is more about the real characters, and it IS NOT a flashback! I am SO relieved that you guys [and gurls!] like the story so far! Thanks so much to all of the reviewers! I am eternally grateful!  
  
EXTREMELY IMPORTANT NOTE! READ THIS BEFORE YOU READ THIS CHAPTER! Okay, it's not THAT important! I just wanted to let ALL OF THE H/M LOVERS OUT THERE [which is all of you! ^_^] that there will be SO MUCH MORE H/M romance in future chapters! I am a huge H/M fan myself and I love writing it! So don't give up hope on this story! There will be much much MUCH more H/M romance! Yay!  
  
Always remember that I am writing this for all you readers out there, and I would LOVE to get a review from everyone who reads this story! So PLEASE REVIEW! Enjoy!  
  
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Margaret stood shakily at the doorway, an expression of pure terror on her face.  
  
Inside the Swamp was a scene of total shock. B.J was tearing the cots apart and hurling objects onto the already littered floor. Charles sat bolt upwards, half on his cot half on his footlocker, chocolate eyes wide, jaw hanging slack, a glinting silver knife jammed into the wooden wall, right beside his unmoving head.  
  
In the distant, dark corner, lay a thin figure slumped against the wall. Margaret could see a flash of bright blue glitter from the corner... his eyes...  
  
Hawkeye.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~FLASHBACK~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Silent screams of terror echoed inside Charles' pounding head as the glinting grey, razor-sharp pocket knife was hurled into the air towards him.  
  
For a few split seconds Charles' heart was frozen in mid-beat. For a few split seconds he was dead as the knife soared through the thick-with- tension air, aimed at him, ready to kill him once more. His breathing was twisted around in his throat, wild gasps not able to inhale. His mind was blanked with shock and fear, his thoughts slurred together in panic.  
  
Then it all stopped. All of his fright, distress, alarm, and frantic anxiety stopped. Just like that. Those sensations were forgotten.  
  
He could no longer see. Blurry blackness blinded his eyes. His last sight was of the knife, stabbed into the wall next to his head. His eyes fluttered close.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*END OF FLASHBACK~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Margaret screamed shrilly before rushing over to the figure in the corner. As she approached, she could see that Hawkeye was in a critical state. His glimmering bright blue eyes had black bruises around them and one eye was swollen shut. His nose was gushing blood and appeared to be broken. His lip was split and his entire chin was drenched in the thick ruby fluid from his bottom lip.  
  
"H-H-HAWKEYE?!" Margaret cried, horrified. B.J was REALLY going to pay for this one! She hurriedly knelt beside him and brushed her soft hand against Hawkeye's beaten face.  
  
His eyes were closed, his black hair chaotic and blood-stained. As her hand tenderly swept across a deep gash on his cheek, his fingers flexed and his hand slowly lifted into the air, unconsciously seeking Margaret's warm, gentle touch. Margaret froze in surprise, carefully reaching out her hand to tenderly clutch Hawkeye's wandering one. Hawkeye's features relaxed, his tense grimace fading, replaced by a peaceful expression. Margaret beamed, her hand gently closing around Hawkeye's. Hawkeye smiled softly, before his head fell back against the wall, and Margaret could feel his fingers fall limp and lifeless. She watched in horror as his breathing became shallow and uneven, slowing into a morbid melody. In sheer panic, Margaret quickly and frantically pressed her trembling hand against his chest.  
  
His heart beat was faint. Tears burned in Margaret's eyes as she felt the beat become softer... and slower...  
  
Margaret whipped around, her flaxen blonde hair swirling in twists behind her. She swiftly stood up, breaking into a sprint at lightning speed.  
  
'Got to get help...' she thought desperately. 'Hawkeye's in danger... Please don't die, Hawkeye! I love you...'  
  
She raced across the Swamp, not paying attention as B.J noticed her for the first time, turning menacingly to her, a look of pure, deathly fearful rage was upon his face. In a flash he was standing in front of the door as Margaret collided into him, falling to the floor with a cry of pain.  
  
B.J furiously kicked her, the harsh swing came crashing into her shoulder. She released another shriek of agony, but B.J silenced her with on frightening move.  
  
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Arrgh, do you like it? I don't! Well, the next chapter will be better, and some questions shall be answered [Frankie *wink wink*]. Incredibly short, this was, sorry. Review, PLEASE!  
  
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